


7 Days of Newtmas Valentines

by deadlymilkovich



Series: Writing Challenges [2]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic, Seven Days of Love Challenge, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22642183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlymilkovich/pseuds/deadlymilkovich
Summary: In true valentine fashion for me, I’m trying something new, something a little different with writing
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: Writing Challenges [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533044
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43





	1. Day One - Did you really think I would forget about you?

Newt had been waiting for almost an hour, sitting in the library away from the chilly weather outside. He huffed again into his shirt, wondering where this “secret admirer” was and why they were so late. It bothered him, made him feel insecure. Was it all just a prank? Has he come here for nothing?

It all seemed so sweet, the little notes, the flowers, the gifts this admirer left him. They all started back almost a year ago, the first one arriving on Valentine’s Day. A small note that said “I love your hair, it’s pretty. I imagine that it’s soft.”

Newt hadn’t thought much of it at the time, assuming the notes were being put into the wrong locker, but after a while, he started to take notice of the little compliments. He knew they were from one of his piers, or at least he hoped they were. It was his own little thing, every day he would wake up and get excited for a new note.

Once the notes had reached their two month anniversary with Newt, they started getting paired up with flowers. Sometimes they were the weed ones from the school yard, and other times they were store bought and preserved. Newt had the roses pressed and put into frames, and he had a vase by his bed with lilies in it. Newt loved the flowers the most. Loved the smells they held and loved the notes they came with, loved the fact that they came from someone who liked him.

When summer arrived, Newt felt his heart break. It was the first time that he had ever missed school in an emotional way, and when the break ended, his excitement sky rocketed, and good for him.

When he opened his locker that day, a present, flowers, and multiple notes were left in it, and Newt almost started to cry. He left the present for home but took the notes with him, reading them in class.

‘It’s been three months! I’ve got so many things to talk about! But, I just wanted to say this before anything, I saw you before school let out. You looked really sad, and I hated seeing you like that. It doesn’t suit you, sadness. You look better when you’re happy, when your smile gets so big you get crinkles near your eyes. You look so handsome when you’re happy, and it’s not just appearance wise. You radiate this aura of energy, it’s so addicting. Every time I passed you in the halls I wanted to reach out and touch you, or call your name, just to let you know that I was here, but I’m nervous. One day I will. I promise. But for now, just know I think you’re gorgeous when you’re happy, and I love your smile. Really, I do.’

Every sentence made Newt smile bigger, that smile this admirer talked about so wonderfully. It made him feel special, made him feel wanted. He had no clue why this admirer likes him so much, but with words like these he didn’t mind.

He read about his admirers summer, about the persons trip to Lake Tahoe and their family and what it was like to get hit in the face with a catfish tail. He read about the food they ate, and the frog that sang to his admirer every night. It made Newt feel close to them, someone who had a personal connection to this admirer. He supposed he already did, but that wasn’t a thought while reading the notes.

More gift and flowers came, notes followed every day, sometimes it would just be notes, but that never bothered Newt.

Not up until now, sitting in the library alone.

It made him think it was all an elaborate prank, planned to a T by someone who hates him to humiliate him and make him sad, throw him into a trench of self hatred for his stupidity over the secret admirer. It made him feel foolish.

He started to pack up, putting his gift back into his bag and zipping it up, grabbing his coat when the library doors slammed open. It scared Newt to bits and he dropped his coat, yelping at the loud sound of wood hitting cement.

A slew of curses left someone’s mouth while Newt picked up his coat, shaking his head. Stupid loud noises always made him angry, mainly cause he jumped when he heard them mostly. It was a silly reflex if his, something that started from his hatred of thunderstorms.

A hand landed on his, right on top of the coat, and a voice followed with a small, “Sorry I’m so late.”

Newt looked up and was met with the prettiest dark brown eyes he’d ever seen, rich and chocolatey. His mouth hung open as the stranger stood up, pulling him with the coat in his hands. Here he got a look at the boys face, and to be fair, he fell in love more once he cane fully into view.

The boy had dark hair, combed back with small curls. His face was littered with a few moles, cute and tiny all alongside his cheek. His lips were a soft pink, and his top lip was a perfect Cupid’s bow. Above that was a button sized nose, something small. He had a a little bit of stubble, like he hadn’t shaved in the morning. He was beautiful, and Newts breathe hitched.

“Are you-“

“My names Thomas.” The boy smiles, and it’s shy but comforting, something that made Newts tummy flutter with big butterflies.

“Thomas... I thought for a moment that, maybe you weren’t going to-“

“That I wasn’t going to show up?” Thomas asks, worry written on his face as Newt reaches for his hand. “Did you really think I would forget about you?”

“For a bit, yeah.” Newt replies, eyes cast down to Thomas’s hands. They were bigger than Newts, and wider too, scabbed a little on the knuckles. It didn’t bother Newt, and he held them softly.

“I’m sorry. I had lost track of time, I was cat sitting for a friend and he doesn’t own any clocks.” Thomas chuckles, and Newt smiles bigger. Cat sitting. What a dork.

“I forgive you, but don’t scare me like that ever again,” Newt chastises, and Thomas nods in guilt. Newt touches his cheek softly, caressing the bone under his thumb. “Please.”

“Never again.” Thomas says, and he looks down at Newts lips, smiling a little to himself. Newt looks up at him, breath coming short as Thomas moved closer, nose bumping Newts in all too beautiful way.

Newt presses in, kissing Thomas with passion and love and everything that had accumulated over the year of their time, all of the notes and how they made him feel, and all of the times he wished to hold the person who made him feel so special. He had that now, has Thomas.

Thomas had Newt too, finally kissing him, finally touching him. He felt all too good about himself, pulling Newt closer and rubbing circles into Newts hip with his thumb.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Newt mutters when they pull apart, breathless and flushed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, my little salamander.” Thomas smiles, and Newt feels himself go redder, laughing hard and hiding his face in Thomas’s coat. Thomas laughs along with him, holding him and kissing the top of his head.

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If I’ve made any mistakes in my writing please notify me so I can change it
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated


	2. Day 2 - Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken from the musical Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber on Fleet Street
> 
> Thomas as Anthony Hope  
> Newton as Johanna Barker  
> Ava Paige as Judge Turpin  
> Rat Man Janson as Beadle Bamford
> 
> TW: violence and homophobic language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a link to the scene and song I am using for this one shot
> 
> Song: https://youtu.be/97C0583y6To  
> Scene: https://youtu.be/vUvfFKHkKno & https://youtu.be/2CQTZVfIUAg

Thomas’s attention had been taken when he’d seen the shimmering flash of blonde hair from the window above, soft looking and brilliant in the soft afternoon light.

The hair belonged to an ever softer looking boy, or maybe it was a man. He sat at his window with a notebook and a pen in his lap, speaking in a hushed tone out towards the sky. He was beautiful, big eyes and slender face, perfect lips and the thinnest frame. Thomas couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the strangers beauty.

They locked eyes for a moment, holding each other’s gaze for a minute. The blonde smiled at him, sweet and delicate, before standing up, body disappearing into the dark room behind it.

Thomas’s smile dropped, the figure who held his gaze now gone. He continued staring up at the window wrapped with intricate marble swirls, just as delicate as it’s owner he assumed. The ledge out from the window held nothing, bare as a bottom, simple.

A weary voice rang out beside him, a ragged old woman hobbling down the sidewalk. He allowed his gaze to fall on her for a moment before it retreated to its former spot.

“Alms! Alms! For a miserable woman! On a miserable, chilly morning.” She wailed, making her way up to Thomas. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a coin purse and handing her a penny. Her hands shook as he set it between them, rotted teeth visible in her smile.

“Thank you sir!” She calls, turning to leave. Thomas sets a hand lightly on her shoulder, drawing her attention.

“Ma’am?” He asks calmly. “Can you tell me who’s house this is?”

“It’s the great Judge Paige’s house that is.” She says, body trembling in the cold. Thomas feels guilty he hadn’t had a second coat for the woman.

“And the young man who resides there?” He asks, holding her hands in his. She looks up at him timidly.

“Oh that’s Newton,” She whispers, like it’s crime to say his name. “Her pretty little ward. Keeps him snug, she does. All locked up.”

Thomas’s eyes land on the empty window again, sorry for the lad. Such a beautiful man, nor woman, deserved that treatment.

“So don’t you go trespassing there, or it’s a good whipping for you,” She warns, eyes cast down. The old woman pulls her hands away from his, covering them in her rags. “Or any young man with mischief on his mind.”

She walks off, starting her wails again, begging for alms as she leaves. Thomas’s breath hitches, her words stinging him softly. A whipping? Mischief?

He starts to walk, pacing slightly down the sidewalk and back, holding his hands together. His eyes found the window again, wishing that the blonde angel would return to his pedestal, beautiful and charming.

“I feel you, Newton, I feel you,” He says, heart beating softly in his ears. “I was half convinced I’d waken, satisfied enough to dream you. Happily I was mistaken, Newton.”

He picked up his bag, crossing the road while he looked upon the window.

“I’ll steal you, Newton,” He whispers, stepping up on the stair steps to the giant polished doors. “I’ll steal you.”

His head turns when he hears the doors opening, meeting an established woman with a frown.

Her hair was pulled back right in a neat bun, and her dress was rich with color. The corset she wore couldn’t have been comfortable, cinching her waist into a sickly thin shape. She held herself high, staring Thomas down with little emotion, waving him in with a raised eyebrow.

“Come in lad, come in.” She says, and Thomas nods in thanks, stepping inside, making sure to avoid her dress.

She closes the door behind them, leading Thomas through the home. He admires the polished marble and maple, things he could never afford in this lifetime. The Judge glances over her shoulder, silently scowling to herself.

“Where are you going, boy?” She asks quickly.

“Hyde Park, ma’am.” He says, examining her dresses design in haste. He believed it might have been silk and lace, something mighty expensive form China maybe. She had the money, Thomas told himself, she might as well treat herself.

“Looking for Hyde Park, you say?” She quarries, entering a room lined with books and centered with a table of liquor and chairs. Thomas had only ever read a few books in his time, those that were left around his ship when there wasn’t anything else left to do.

“Yes,” Thomas answered, looking around the room. “It’s very large in the map, but I keep getting lost.”

“Sit down, lad, sit.” Judge Paige turns to him, gesturing for the leather chair. Thomas took a seat, careful to place his bag against it so it wouldn’t fall.

“It’s embarrassing for a sailor to lose his bearings,” Thomas crowded himself together, taking up as little space as possible. “But, there you are.”

Judge Paige looks to the doors of the room, eyes locking with her right hand, Janson. A thin little man he was, but fierce in her protection, taking a bullet to the shoulder and the knee for her safety.

Thomas looked back at the man, and Judge Paige cleared her throat, handing Thomas a glass of scotch.

“A sailor?” She asks, stepping back towards her books.

“Yes ma’am. The Boutinful, out of Plymouth.” Thomas says, allowing the ship to register among the Judges memory.

She nods, setting her hand along some of her books.

“A sailor must know the ways of the world, yes?” She eyes Thomas’s frame. Muscled and well kept, but tired and worn too. She tsked and began to walk around the room. “Must be practiced in the ways of the world. Would you say you’re practiced, boy?”

“Ma’am?” Thomas says, an terrible odd feeling sprouting in his tummy. His hands clasped around the glass he held tighter.

“Oh, yes. Such practices,” She whispered, hands drifting across the books. “The geishas of Japan. The concubines of Siam. The catamines of Greece. The harlots of India. I have them all here. Drawings of them.”

Thomas’s posture straightened, and Judge Paige cocked an eyebrow up at him.

“Everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing,” She pauses, her hand stopping on a thin book. “With a man.”

Thomas’s head bowed a bit, the heavy fear and terror swinging fully now, eyes still on the woman in front of him.

“Would you like to see?” She asks, pulling the book out. Thomas swallows hard, pushing down his fear.

“I think there’s been some mistake.” Thomas mutters, setting his drink down on the table. Judge Paige pushes the book back into its place, disbelief and smugness tugging on her features.

“I think not,” She practically growls, pointing a finger at Thomas. “You gandered at my ward, Newton. You gandered at him.”

Thomas gasped, his face visible of all emotion he felt inside as Judge Paige stood before him.

“Yes sir, you gandered.” She spits.

“I meant no harm.” Thomas says, trying to find himself out of the situation. What could he say? He would be lying.

“Your meaning is immaterial,” The Judge puts her hands onto the chair handles by Thomas’s sides, leaning in close. “Mark me. If I ever see your face again on this street, you’ll rue the day you were born.”

Thomas’s looked at her wide eyed, terrified of her words. Judge Paige nodded to Janson, who grabbed Thomas by the collar of his coat and dragged him out, dragging his bag behind him.

Janson threw the man out, and Thomas’s elbows gave out a sickening _‘crack’_ as they hit the pavement beneath them. He groaned softly, cradling them as Janson stood above him.

“Hyde Park is that way, young sir!” He chuckles, pointing forward. “A left, and a right, and then straight on you see?”

Thomas pulled himself up, rubbing his elbows. Janson pulled out his cane, raising it high and striking the back of Thomas’s head. He fell again, face smacking the ground hard as he felt his nose trickle blood. Janson pulled the bottom of his cane out, turning it and whipping Thomas’s backside, making the young man cough and groan in pain.

Janson kicked the boy into his back, blood flowing down his mouth as he moved. Janson out his canes head in between Thomas’s eyes and pressed down, making the man close his eyes from pain.

“You heard what Judge Paige said, little lad,” Janson taunts, pressing down harder. “Next time, it’ll be your pretty little brains all over the pavement.”

The pressure leaves, and Thomas turns back onto his stomach, coughing hard and wiping at his nose. Janson returned to throw Thomas’s bag out, throwing it at the young man and hitting him in the shoulder, knocking him down again.

The door closed and Thomas took a moment to regain his breathing, before standing back up and putting his bag on his shoulder, staggering from the pain.

He started to hobble down the alleyway, looking up at the windows of the home. A great pain filled his chest, but also great love.

“I’ll steal you, Newton, I’ll steal you,” He said, hand pressing into the brick as he walked. “Do they think that walls can hide you? Even now I’m at your window.”

He stumbles a little and lands on the other wall, walking alongside it slowly.

“I am in the dark beside you, buried sweetly in your yellow hair.”

Thomas smiles, imagining the other man wrapped in his arms, kissing him softly.

He made his way back to the front of the street, to the front of the house, and he looked up.

Newton was back.

He caught eyes with Thomas once more, worried etched into his face this time. He sets a hand against the large glass pane, offering a guilty look to Thomas below.

Thomas just smiles.

“I’ll feel you, Newton, and one day, I’ll steal you,” Thomas says, clutching his bag. “Till I’m with you then, I’m with you there, sweetly buried in your yellow hair.”

Thomas gives him another smile, turning away in pain as he walked, limping down the sidewalk.

Newton cried softly as he watched Thomas leave, wishing nothing but to kiss him, take him away, clean his wounds.

But, he promised he’d steal Newton from this place.

And till then, Newton would wait.

“Steal me,” Newt says, glassy eyes wet with tears. “Steal me away from here, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If I’ve made any mistakes in my writing please notify me so I can change it
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated


	3. Day 3 - Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by these photos but not directly used in the story  
> https://twitter.com/onlyush/status/1153070444632793091?s=20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest one so far so I’m sorry :,)

If Newt had to blame anyone for how intoxicated he was right now, he’d say it was Minho. Or maybe that’s Brenda. He can’t tell, with the room spinning in a circle, and as fast as it was at that.

He laughed, tripping over something and leaning forward to brace himself, hitting the wall. Music pumped around his body, making him want to dance, but he was too slow to, arms wiggling like worms dug up from the ground. He was so intoxicated that if he truly tried to stand straight he’d start tilting like the Tower of Pisa until gravity finished the job. It wasn’t a common occurrence, being as drunk as he was now, but when it did happen he always remembered everything, and that was both a blessing a curse at times.

Looking around the spin-top room, Newts eyes scanned over MinhoBrenda making out with Gally, and Frypan trying to get a cookie to fall into his mouth without using his hands while Winston, Aris, and Harriet all cheered him on. Newt laughed again, pushing up off the wall to look down at what he fell over, seeing it was Sonyas feet and she was staring off at a piece of art on the wall, probably Thomas’s if Newt looked hard enough.

Thomas. _Thomasssss..._

Newt hadn’t seen Thomas yet. Where was he, the handsome devil? The hunky dreamboat? The modern Indiana Jones- oh there he was.

Thomas was sitting over in a corner with his sketch book in hand a bottle of Jack next to him. He was looking down, glancing up occasionally to look at certain people or the room in general.

“Thomas!” Newt yelped, stumbling over Sonyas feet again as he walked over. He plopped down next to the brunette, leaning his head onto Thomas’s knee. “Whatcha doing?”

“What does it look like?” He says back, a little too quiet for Newts ears, but loud enough that Newt got most of the sentence. Newt looked up, wiggling to look at the book in Thomas’s hands as his pencil moved quickly. Newt smiled.

“Okay so Gally is making out with Minho,” Newt giggles. “Good to know.”

“Who did you think he was-“ Thomas started, but he started laughing, covering his mouth and turning away, body shaking softly. “Oh my god, you’re _drunk_ drunk aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Newt slurs, kissing Thomas’s knee. “But that’s a secret I’ll never tell. Xoxo, _gossip girl_.”

“Oh my god you’re so stupid,” Thomas says, leaning down and kissing Newts nose. “I love you.”

“Right back at you, matey.” Newt says in a pirate-like accent, curving his pointer finger into a hook. He pulls at Thomas’s shirt collar with it, until the younger man leaned down. Newt kissed him properly, not sloppy but not perfect, and let him go after a second, head returning to Thomas’s leg. The brunette hummed in content as he continued to sketch, occasionally taking a swig of Jack as he went.

They stayed like that until everyone dropped, and Newt woke with a cramp in his neck and a book on top of his head. Thomas was leaned back in an even more painful position, so Newt helped him up, waking him slowly. He brought Thomas a trash can, knowing the mans past with alcohol, he would probably need it. He picked up Tommy’s sketch book and retreated to their bedroom, setting it down on the desk where Newt did his work, but not before opening it and looking at Thomas’s piece from the night before.

It was neat and well drawn, the little details of their apartment and the big, but Newt smiled at his part, enjoying the fact that Thomas drew him with the dopey face and goofy body stance he had had the night before.

It reminded him of how they met, or rather, now Newt noticed Thomas. They were in the same art class in high school and Thomas had used Newt as a reference for their final project, presenting it to the class and getting a well deserved grade on it.

It was the piece Sonya had been staring at, with the watercolor splashes and the dark defined lines, framed nicely in the living room, she would say.

Newt couldn’t help but agree more.


	4. Day 4 - Reignited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This ones a little more adult but there’s no explicit nsfw to it
> 
> Also sorry for missing a day, I was tired and didn’t have the motivation to write

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas’s appearance is more influenced by Stiles from Teen Wolf but not completely

Thomas hadn’t intended to run into Newt, hadn’t intended to talk to him, or offer him up for coffee, or ask the other man if he wanted to stay over for the night while he was in town. He hadn’t, and he swears to it as well.

But, despite his intentions, he still ran into Newt.

He was walking home from work, apron folded in his arms and a bottle of water in his hand as he tapped away at his phone, messaging Minho about Friday’s movie night when he slammed into a stranger, or so he thought. It didn’t take long for the dirty blonde hair and big brown eyes to register in Thomas’s memory, but when they did he went red in the face. He was stuttering and laughing as he helped Newt up, unable to make a coherent sentence as he dusted off his jeans and coat.

Newt hadn’t noticed Thomas yet, and for a split second he hoped that Newt wouldn’t look up and would just keep walking, ignoring him and just going about his way, but the odds weren’t in his favor.

Newt had looked up, had seen Thomas, had stopped to admire him back. It didn’t stay long, but Thomas noticed the small smile that crossed Newts face before it dashed away.

“Thomas,” Newt said, folding his hands in front of him in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for bumping into you, I didn’t mean to-“

“No that was me, I wasn’t looking,” Thomas laughs, angered by his tense stance towards Newt. “That was all me. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Newt says, tapping his thumb on his knuckle. Thomas rocked on his feet a little, awkward silence filling their space. Newt was ready to walk away, but Thomas set a hand on his arm, smiling.

“Newt, hey uh,” Thomas scolds himself for stuttering. “Do you wanna get a coffee? Or a tea? Or whatever you fancy?”

Newt laughed a little at his words, and he moved back to stand in front of Thomas, arms crossed now.

He took a moment to think about the offer, and after a few seconds he smiled again at Thomas, flashing the one Thomas only got to see.

“Only if you’re buying.”

Thomas and Newt had talked for a good few hours over both tea and coffee, catching up on one another and telling stories from their own separate lives.

Newt had been traveling for work, a business firm that had treated him well and respected his work ethic. Thomas hadn’t had such luck, working as a book clerk for a library that was a little too run down and a little too unpopular. Newt didn’t judge, finding it charming and suiting for Thomas in a way.

Newt told Thomas about his dog, and his neighbor with the creaky floorboard, and the new intern who tried to get his number every morning. It reminded Thomas of past times, taking place at their apartments kitchen table or on the couch. It made him happy, the memories, and Newt couldn’t deny that it did the same for him.

They missed each other.

Thomas and Newt has finished their stories and had fell into a comfortable silence, sipping their respective drinks and studying each other. Newt had bulked up a little, Thomas noticed in the way his face looked a bit stronger, and the clothes he wore looked like they fit better on him. He also wore more professional clothing, a white button up and dress slacks with nice polished shoes, tidy and straight and without fault. It suited Newt, the neatness, the tidy. He’d always been a functional person, taking his appearance in and making it presentable, except for the few days when he hadn’t had the energy to dress up a bit.

Thomas, at least to Newt, had changed a lot.

The younger man had spiked hair, soft looking and well kept, and his ears were pierced now. His left ear had an industrial piece in it, as well as a helix and studs lining his lobe. His right had a rook and a three helix’s, a regular stud on his lobe. He admired the cool metal and how they suited Thomas, something he’d never expected, but wasn’t against. Thomas also had a scar on his cheek now, probably from self injury rather than a fight with his clumsiness, which Newt mentally chuckled over.

Thomas’s style hadn’t changed, the skinny jeans and well fitting t-shirts still working for the man, but he had a tattoo now, something under his sleeve on his right bicep. Newt couldn’t see it fully, and it caught his interest slightly.

They locked eyes for a moment and stared, drinking in one another’s presence.

To them, it was almost like nothing had ever changed between them, like they’d never broken up. But that was also such a long time ago, so distant now as they sat together in the drink shop.

Thomas paid for the bill, and Newt held the door open for him, bowing dramatically as Thomas walked past him.

They strolled down the street, chatting lightly about the weather and the upcoming summer that was following them slowly, and how Thomas was excited to bust out his shorts again, missing them dearly. Newt chastised him for the shorts, saying Thomas was always falling over or tripping and that he would scrape his knees and bust them open if he wore shorts. The laughs they shared felt too familiar again, too good. It made them fall silent as they walked, Thomas directing Newt to his apartment subconsciously.

They made it up to Thomas’s flat, and that’s when Thomas invited Newt in, suggesting that he spend the night or at least stay for a little while longer. Newt had looked troubled for a moment before letting it go, entering in and taking a look around.

Thomas’s kitchen was tidy, and so was the living room, spare for the messy pile of DVD’s by the TV. Newt hadn’t been given such gifts of care when they had dated, cleaning up Thomas’s messes far too often for comfort back then.

Thomas also had photos on his walls, bright photos of friends, two girls hugging while a younger man photo bombed them in the corner, a tan girl sitting and painting, and another photo of Thomas and a shaggy haired boy splashing each other in a pool. Good memories that deserved to be framed.

Thomas has dropped his keys into a bowl at the middle of his kitchen table and tossed his apron up onto the chair next to it, making sure to remove the pens and spare pocket change in the pockets before doing so. Newt smiled at him.

Thomas was a beautiful man, Newt would always believe that. No matter what happened between them, Thomas was always beautiful. It wasn’t that hard to see, with his soft features and pretty moles, his sharp jawline and lack of peach fuzz. Newt truly believed he would envy Thomas’s looks if he wasn’t satisfied with his own personal ones.

Thomas thought the same of Newt as he walked up to him, believing whole heartedly that Newt was just about the most handsome man Thomas had ever seen.

They looked at each other for a while, like in the coffee shop, but deeper this time. It was genuine care this time, genuine love.

Thomas reaches out first, tracing Newts cheek with his thumb and flushing his palm to Newts skin. Newt had leaned into it, softly, like it wasn’t real. He hoped it was, hoped this was Thomas and not some cruel dream.

Newt stepped forward more, bring his lips to Thomas’s. They kissed sweetly, like breathing new air, something they hadn’t felt in years.

Thomas felt a little too floaty, wrapping his arms around Newts waist as the latter snaked his arms around Thomas’s neck.

The kisses grew heated, Newts fingers pulling lightly at Thomas’s hair, and Thomas wrapped his hands around Newts legs, lifting him up and onto the table, kissing down on him. Newts body responded wonderfully, following Thomas’s hands as they caressed and held on tightly.

Thomas kisses down Newts jaw, bitting lightly at the hard edges as he went, sucking down on the sweet spot Newt had that Thomas remembered oh so vividly. It sent Newt squirming, wiggling in Thomas’s grasp and whining, hushed mumbles of “Tommy” leaving his lips.

Thomas bit down and sucked sweetly on the spot before backing away, smiling at his work. Newt kissed him feverishly, sitting up and tugging on Thomas’s shirt, pulling it over his head and flinging it away, feeling the muscle under his hands.

“I missed you.” Newt confesses, kissing Thomas’s shoulder. The younger man nods softly, nudging Newt back with his hands.

“I missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If I’ve made any mistakes in my writing please notify me so I can change it
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated


	5. Day 5 - When I said “Bite me” thats not what I meant!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this edit https://images.app.goo.gl/DqT2vMhvjkQ6GGX87

“I’m coming with you, and that’s final!”

Thomas couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder at the man in front of him. They’d been at this for almost ten minutes, and it was starting to make Thomas annoyed. He had to go alone, he couldn’t risk losing Newt, or anyone else on his team. He just couldn’t, so he refused to allow the others to follow him or help out. The risk was too high.

He turned and continue to pack his bags, feeling the angry eyes from his partner boring into his skull. He didn’t feel bad for telling Newt no. He couldn’t, not with how dangerous it was.

“Staring at me isn’t going to stop me.” Thomas says, and Newt scoffs.

“I wasn’t going to, idiot,” He calls back, stepping off and Thomas listens as a clattering noise fills the room, followed by the sound of a zipper. Thomas sighs, turning around and looking at Newt.

The older man was filling his own backpack with supplies, medical wrap, a few weapons and a whole lot of water. Thomas laughed harshly, walking hastily up to him.

“If you don’t put the backpack down and back down I’ll force you out the room myself, Newt.” He growls, pushing his hand down onto the backpack, trying to get it out of Newts hands. Newt yanks it back, scowling at the brunette.

“Bite me Tommy.”

Thomas’s hands found their way to Newts cheeks, pulling him into a kiss. The blonde rolls his eyes, kissing back and letting a hand come to Thomas’s hip.

Thomas took the opportunity, biting down on Newts lip and making him yelp, pulling away and blushing hard.

“When I said “Bite me”, that’s not what I meant Thomas!”

“Got you distracted though,” Thomas says, picking up Newts bag and dumping it out, tossing it across the room and walking back to his own, pulling it on and turning to the other man. “I’m not sorry.”

“Fuck off,” Newt mumbles, retrieving his bag. “If you die out there it’s not my fault, I was only trying to help.”

“I won’t die,” Thomas says, eyes scanning Newts face. He was angry, more than angry at Thomas. He had to come back unharmed, just to prove to Newt that he could do this. That he was okay. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If I’ve made any mistakes in my writing please notify me so I can change it
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated


	6. Day 6 - Left High and Dry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is quite literally taken from the locker room scene in Teen Wolf (3x04) between Scott, Stiles and Danny but the characters are changed up (sorry it’s short)
> 
> Scott - Minho  
> Stiles - Thomas  
> Danny - Newt

“My lack of sexual experience is literally a threat to my life right now!” Thomas says, hands whirring by his sides like mad. It took everything in Minho to not laugh at his poor friends panic, so he covered his mouth with his hand in return.

Poor Thomas and his worry of the mysterious “WCKD” man going around. Stupid ass probably forgot that it was his own football teams name.

“Okay, I need to have sex, like, right now!” He says loudly, and Minho just shakes his head in response. “Someone needs to have sex with me like today! Someone needs to sex me right now!”

He slams his locker closed in frustration and Newt pops up behind him, shirtless and giggling.

“Alright, I’ll do it.” The blonde says, slipping on a t-shirt. Thomas temps and whips his head back, hands held out from surprised.

“What?” Thomas asks, the start of a smile curling on his face. Newt picks up his gym bag and leans against the lockers.

“Come over to my place at nine,” The older boy says cooly, looking Thomas up and down, biting his lip. “Plan to stay the night. I like to cuddle.”

Thomas does a double take look at Minho, who smiles and shakes his head. Thomas looks back at Newt, eyebrows raised high.

“That is so sweet, are you kidding?” He asks, and Newt smiles.

“Yes, I’m kidding.” He laughs, leaning up and walking off, patting Minho on the shoulder.

“Okay, you know, you don’t toy with a guys emotions, Newt!” Thomas yells after him. “It’s not attractive alright!”

Thomas shakes his head softly, biting his tongue and setting his forehead against the metal of the locker door.

“So close,” He whispers, and Minho starts to laugh, doubling over as Thomas fell more into despair. “So god damn close.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If I’ve made any mistakes in my writing please notify me so I can change it
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated


	7. Day 7 - Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys are going to hate me so so much for this but that’s okay, it’s both short and unsatisfying and you can totally drag my ass for it
> 
> I will be revamping this piece in the near future
> 
> Last chapter, thank you so much for reading this far ! 🖤

The day had come, after months of waiting and planning, it was finally Valentine’s Day.

Newt had woken up extra early to prepare Thomas’s favorite breakfast, fluffy waffles and bacon with strawberries. He’d made sure to leave a personal note for Thomas, as well as flowers for his partner before leaving, waiting for Thomas’s alarm to go off before exiting the building itself.

He had to meet up with Frypan and Gally soon, as they had planned to set up the garden a few hours before noon hit, setting their day up in a tight schedule.

The two men had grabbed Newts shirt collar the moment they laid eyes on him, dragging him down to the Gazebo where roses and red asters lined the wooden walls. It screamed romantic, but Gally wasn’t going to let Newt sit and admire just yet. He clapped his hands together and rolled up his sleeves, grabbing a folding table and asking Newt for help with the legs of it, instructing Frypan to set up balloons at the front of the venue. They worked hastily at setting up, coordination flowing freely between the three as they went about fixing up the Gazebo.

Newt got a text from Thomas right as they finished, followed by a photo of their cat eating some of Thomas’s breakfast bacon. Newt smiled, looking at the heart by Thomas’s contact name and humming. The small box in his jackets pocket reminded him of the tasks at hand, but he lingered a moment more, sending Thomas lovely messages before putting the electronic away, and thanking his friends for helping.

Gally and Frypan were glad they could help, but they felt bad leaving Newt by himself to wait. None the less, they left, and wished him luck. Now all Newt had to do was wait for time to pass.

Time. Newt and Thomas has all the time in the world. They’d spend all the time in the world together if they could, but it wasn’t needed. They loved each other, and Newt would be damned if he didn’t let Thomas know he loved him always.

He pulled out the box from his pocket, flipping it open and smiling down at the black band inside.

“It’s only a matter of time, my love.” He whispers, setting the box down on the table, thumb touching the gem at the middle in soft adoration.

“Just a little bit of time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If I’ve made any mistakes in my writing please notify me so I can change it
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated


End file.
